As You Wish
by iofbeholder
Summary: When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him. After Season 2 Finale. Somewhat AU regarding relationships & events. Stiles/Derek/Lydia/Erica (Romance/Humor/Angst/Drama/Supernatural) Multi-POV
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: This is my first time writing fanfiction, so if you have any criticisms that can help me better my writing, then please leave a review telling me so, or if you would like to suggest a plot point for the story, I'll take it into advisement. (Will give you credit, if you like.) - I don't own Teen Wolf, but I sure wish I could own Stiles. ;)

* * *

Stiles/Derek/Lydia/Erica *Stiles is getting some lovin' in this story* (Romance/Humor/Angst)

Synopsis: When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him. After Season 2 Finale.

Warning: Language & eventual sexy fun times. Mature.

Multi-POV

**Scott POV**:

"Dude, you been hanging around a skunk lately?" Scott had noticed that the past two weeks Stiles had been reeking more than usual for a teenager. He didn't want to think about it, but couldn't help remembering how the weel before when he was at work, he had realized that Stiles was starting to smell like the dog he'd been helping treat at the clinic who was dying of cancer. _No, that could never be._ Scott and Stiles had been joined at the hip since forever. Stiles with his inappropriate, sardonic humor was invincible, as far as Scott was concerned. _You keep telling yourself that_, he thought.

He caught another whiff when the breeze shifted. _Deflect, _his denial all-consuming._ Make a joke_, he thought.

"You're never going to get a date if you don't chase that smell away."

"Haha. I don't smell. Maybe it's you. Blaming me won't help you when Allison's around." Stiles smirked.

"Or you when Lydia's around." _God, I'm such an ass._ Scott knew if he didn't face the reality that something might be seriously wrong with his best friend, that he'd go out of his mind worrying or worse Stiles not getting the help he might need. How he would go about aiding Stiles, he didn't know. Many of his friends and fellow wolves didn't know he could smell decay, _death, _and he hadn't alluded so.

"Why did you just shiver? Is the big bad wolf cold?"

Ignoring Stiles, Scott thought maybe he should ask Allison what he ought to do. Then again, possibly Derek would be the better choice, after all he was the Alpha now. _Do all werewolves possess the ability to smell if something's **off**?_ Scott decided to quit thinking so hard, get his shit together, and man up to either help his friend, if he is sick or squelch this paranoia once and for all.

* * *

**Stiles POV:**

This was getting ridiculous. Here they are finally getting some time to hangout just the two of them, no Allison, and Scott has barely said two words to him, unless you count telling him he smells. Stiles had been looking forward to "guy time" all week, but Scott seems to be in thought about who knows what. _Probably Allison related._ He hadn't even had time to tell Scott about all the different ways he'd fixated on Lydia this past week.

Stiles noticed his head started throbbing again; this would be, what, 11th time this week? He'd become accustomed to carrying a bottle of aspirin in his backpack. He guessed, with Scott distracted and his head killing him, he should call it quits on "guy time"; maybe look into finding the number for a doctor. Since his mom had died eight years ago from cancer, Stiles' household hadn't really been into medical anything. It was a much avoided topic between him and his father, but the headaches were starting to be too much.

"Hey Scott, you seem to have things on your mind, and I'm not feeling all "super-duper"(yes, he actually used finger quotes), so I think I'm going to head on out."

"What! What's wrong?" Scott asked in a shrill voice, which severely hurt Stiles' growing headache, and made him wince.

"Tone down the volume, dude. What's wrong with _you_? You've barely spoken to me and now you're screeching at me."

Scott ignoring him yet again said, "Yeah, yeah, what's wrong with you?" With werewolf fast reflexes, Scott grabbed Stiles' head and looked deeply into his eyes as if he was searching for something.

"You are seriously freaking me out. Oh, and quit using your super powers; it's not fair for us normal people when we can't escape interrogation. Anyway, I'm fine, or will be fine. It's just a mild headache." Could Scott tell something was wrong with him? Something he couldn't tell himself.

"Whhyyyy, does your wolfy-senses detect something amiss?" Stiles said sarcastically, yet truthfully.

"Uh, gotta go."

"No you don't. Scott, what the hell is going on?"

"You, um...you..." Stiles saw Scott become a blur by taking a step back, do a 180, and shooting off in the opposite direction all at wolf speed. This most definitely did not instill Stiles with "good feelings". Sighing, he opened up his backpack, popped four aspirin and sighed again. With the knowledge of Scott acting more weird than normal, Stiles was now filled with the urgency to go home and call a doctor. Maybe the doctor could also give him something for his werewolf induced stress; _after all, that's most likely what's giving me headaches_.

* * *

**Allison POV:**

"What a strange text."

"Oooo, who's it from, and what's it say?" Lydia enthusiastically asked as she was painting her nails with a color called, "Poppy Love". Sometimes Lydia was just a bit too on the girly side for Allison, but she loved her anyway.

"It's Scott, and I'm not sure I understand what it says."

"Hand it over. I'll decipher it." _The inner workings of Scott, we're probably not in need of a cryptologist_ was quietly mumbled by Lydia as Allison gave over her cell.

While to the outside viewer, Lydia may look like one of those shallow, insipid, I've got nothing going on up under this beautifully coiffed hair kind of girls, but to those who got to know the authentic Lydia, you would know better. She'll almost certainly be someone of great import later in life, if only she would realize that her brain should come before everything else she values most about herself. That was one reason Allison really liked Stiles. He always saw Lydia the way she actually is; not just the shell. Although, he notices that, as well; quite often, in fact. Allison had kept trying to figure a way to get the two together, but hadn't entirely figured out how to get Lydia to regard Stiles in a non loser-like manner. With him continually making an ass out of himself, it had been a difficult task to go about.

"Well, either Scott is on crack or he says he's going to crack. Does he mean 'crack under pressure'? Does Scott even get pressured? Doesn't seem the type." Oh, if Lydia only knew about the daily pressure Scott had to deal with being a werewolf, and having her family hunt werewolves, _and_ dealing with a infinitely irritable Derek. Yes, Scott was sufficiently stressed. Allison wondered which it was now.

"Here, let me text him back to meet me in 30. He most likely needs me for something."

"Oh, _I_ _bet he needs you for something_." Lydia grinned like a Cheshire cat.

Allison laughed, "Not this time...at least, I don't think so."

* * *

**Scott POV:**

As soon as Allison had texted back, Scott felt marginally better. Going to Derek to get information was probably the logical thing he should be doing, but he didn't feel very logical right now. No, emotional was what he was, and the best person to help him figure out how to deal with himself and the Stiles situation was Allison. When Stiles had asked him if he could sense something wrong with him, Scott had freaked. He couldn't tell Stiles anything until he had some semblance of answers himself. And to find out his answers, he would have to deal with Derek. Everyone thought of Derek as broody and lethal, as did Scott, but Scott was also aware of Derek's fondness for Stiles. It was almost imperceptible to see, but Derek was _minutely_ less moody and violent when Stiles was around. At first, Scott had assumed that it was a kind of brotherly affection (if you could call a less aggressive Derek, shoving Stiles into walls, affectionate), but over time he had guessed maybe it was something more.

At present, he hoped this was the case, because perhaps Derek would be more forthcoming than usual.

(**30 Minutes**** Later**)

After Allison had arrived, Scott told her everything, all of the paranoia and fear that he'd been bottling up for the past week and the conversation with Stiles that had taken place earlier in the day. At first she just looked at him with an astonished expression, then she said something he really hadn't imagined her saying.

"Fuckin' hell." Yep, wasn't expecting that to spill out of her at his confession. Nor did he expect her to start crying.

"Why are you crying? I'm already freaking out and you're not helping." He said as soothingly as possible in his mental state.

"I've been getting attached to the idea that I could _possibly_ get Stiles and Lydia together, but now you spring this on me. I...I never imagined...this...this is wrong. You have to be wrong, Scott."

"Maybe I am, but in order to find out I've got to go talk to Derek, and, yeah, not looking forward to that."

That seemed to sober her tears.

"Scott, get your ass over to Derek's now. I've grown to really care for Stiles, and I know if something were to happen to him you would be devastated, so suck it the hell up and go help **our** friend. If he is sick, we will find him the help he needs, medical or supernatural."

God, he loved this girl.

* * *

He'd gotten as pumped up for confronting Derek as he was going to. Making his way up the drive to Derek's ramshackle, half burned down house, he realized that though he was ready to face Derek, he hadn't come up with a way to coerce Derek into answering all his questions without spilling the beans on the Stile's situation. Scott figured it was all or nothing; he'd go say his peace and they'd be able to move forward to help Stiles.

Climbing the front porch steps, he heard heavy breathing coming from the house; Derek must be working out. _What else did the guy do all day?_ Scott opened the front door without knocking.

"What the hell do you want?" Derek said nonchalantly, not interrupting his push ups.

"I've got some issues that I need to discuss with you."

"Oh, I know you've got issues, but can't you whine them out to Stiles? I'm busy."

"It's Stiles that my issues concern." Derek halted midway through his 32nd push up when Scott said this, then continued on to number 33.

"What's going on now?" He sighed.

"Can all werewolves smell if an animal or person is dying,_ because I sortofcan_." Scott mumbled and sped his way through the last of the sentence. Derek immediately looked at Scott with glowing red eyes.

"Why? Can you smell it on Stiles?" Derek growled out.

Scott halted a minute before weakly saying, "Yes."

"For how long?" The Alpha was up on his feet and now nose to nose with Scott.

"Past week." Scott had to turn his head and look away. "I'm guessing that was a yes to my answer about smelling death." Scott felt a terrible weight starting to get increasingly heavier in his chest. Derek seemed to notice the sadness seeping off Scott by backing away slightly and lowering the glow of his eyes.

"We'll fix this; first, we both need to go visit Stiles. See or I need to rather smell out the damage."

"I was hoping it was just my paranoia." Scott said quietly. He then steeled himself, looked at Derek, and said, "Let's go."

* * *

Music listened to whilst writing this chapter:

"Slow" - Grouplove

"Hanging On - Active Child

"Skin" - Zola Jesus

"Won't You Stay" - Indivision & Livewire


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: How are you guys liking the multi-pov's? Not too many, I hope. I like seeing into everyone's head, as long as the story is still progressing. Enjoy some super sarcastic Stiles in this chapter. Review to let me know if you're liking the story. Going to try updating with a new chapter every Wednesday. We'll see how it goes. :) I don't own Teen Wolf, but sure wish I owned Stiles.

* * *

Stiles/Derek/Lydia/Erica *Stiles is getting some lovin' in this story* (Romance/Humor/Angst)

Synopsis: When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him. After Season 2 Finale.

Warning: Language & eventual sexy fun times. Mature.

Multi-POV

**Stiles POV:**

_Dammit, how hard can it be to get an appointment before three months from now?_ Apparently, quite hard when you tell them you want to come in because of a headache. If he were to go to the hospital, he was sure his dad would find out before he'd actually be seen by a doctor, and that would be more of a confrontation than he could handle at the moment.

"Guess I'm sticking with you, Aspirin, my new, dear friend." He said out loud, sensing his own exhaustion from the bizarre, frustrating day.

"Now I'm worried. He's talking to inanimate objects."

Stiles let out a very manly scream, _uh huh, not a girlish yelp at all_, and turned around seeing that Scott and Derek had come through his bedroom window and were now staring at him with piercing looks.

"Right and **you both** slinking into my room watching me talk to inanimate objects isn't creepy and voyeuristic in any way." Stiles's sarcasm was his modus operandi when he was uncomfortable, or when he was feeling left out (c_ue lacrosse_) and ignored (c_ue Lydia_), or when...really it was pretty much his stationary attitude. Being sincere hadn't been his forte since his mother had died.

Suddenly, with Stiles not knowing how he got from A to B, he was up against his closet door being taken in as a large lungful by the hulking mass that was Derek Hale. _Awkward._

"Sizing me up as an entrée for dinner tonight? I have some decent BBQ sauce in the fridge if I'm too bland a snack for you." Looking to Scott around Derek's head, Stiles asked, "Mind telling me what the hell's going on, buddy? Customarily, I'm not that opposed to attention, but yeah...this is a little out of my wheelhouse of touchy feely stuff."

Evidently, not concerned enough to answer his question, Scott disregarded him, asking Derek, "Well?"

"Well, fucking WHAT?" Stiles lashed out; he was getting irritated, his head now hurting worse than before.

"Come over here and help me smell it out." **W****oah.** What?

"Yeah...if this is some kind of werewolf sexual moon craziness, or whatever, instead of _smelling me out_, why don't you two go rub one out. Go ahead and remove me from the equation, because as many a housewife has said, 'I've got a headache. No funny business tonight, Sweetie.'" Usually, sex of any kind, Stiles would want in on that action. _Not that the opportunity had ever arisen, besides the world wide wonderful web. _Tonight, or well, anytime recently, Stiles had been too run down to be his standard spunky, go for it, self, anyway; thanks to Allison being Scott's all-consuming focus as of late, Stiles hadn't had to try too much to hide his below par state from his best friend. Although, him feeling ill sure hadn't made his mind slow with lusty images of a certain strawberry blonde. _Focus; stupid ADD._

"Shut up would you, princess." Derek whispered in his neck, then cocked his head back at Scott, lifting his eyebrow in a "why aren't you over here yet?" way. Scott lumbered his way over to them and positioned himself into Stiles unoccupied side of neck, taking a large whiff, whilst Derek did the same to the other side. _Double, superbly A__wkward._

Closing his eyes, Stiles stood as still as possible, not daring to breathe hard lest he shiver_,_ letting them do whatever craziness this was, so that they could leave and he could go lay down. He was starting to get light sensitive, so closing his eyes was helping with that at least.

"How are you feeling, Stiles?" Derek asked him while his face is still in Stiles's neck, and his hand, that Stiles had noticed had been on his shoulder, was sliding down his arm slowly to rest on Stiles's wrist.

"Like you two don't know the meaning of personal space."

"It's definitely there, but I detect an almost _absence_ of smell mixing with it. Strange." Derek said to Scott, sounding perplexed. _Yeah, the absence of a smell is strange, not the fact that two dudes are smelling me. Glad we have our priorities straight. _Colossal eye roll_._

"W-what does that mean?" Scott stammered to Derek. Stiles had contesting thoughts of both wanting to know what was going on with his best friend and Derek touching & smelling him and not really being bothered, because he was starting to tire of this ménage à trois of weirdness infringing on his right to suffer in peace.

"You guys almost done having your olfactory way with me? I think I need to lay down." Stiles started attempting to wiggle his way out from between the two werewolves.

Noticing what Stiles wanted, Derek and Scott backed away leaving him to stare at them; seeing an expression of apprehension on their faces and not caring, he turned his back to them, hissing as his head pounded in his left temple, and walked over to his bed, dropping down, liking himself to a boulder.

"Turn off the lights, unless either of you can clarify for me in less than two sentences what the hell just happened. **No, you can't do that?** Well, when I'm not feeling like my brain is going to ooze out my nose from this wicked headache, don't think I'm going to magically forget this strange little pow wow you guys forced upon me tonight." With that Stiles reached over to his night stand, popped three more aspirin, and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

**Derek POV:**

Climbing out through the window onto the roof and quickly sidestepping Scott before he'd be promptly tackled with questions he wasn't ready to answer yet, Derek tried to factor in his mind the various emotions he was feeling at the moment, and frankly was extremely glad he had learned to control his facial expressions and body language to not reveal his emotions so well over the years; thus Scott, and thank god Stiles, hadn't witnessed him having such perplexing reactions.

He didn't know what to tackle first. When Scott had come to him today with the news that Stiles might be ill, he hadn't had the time to deal with the reality of the situation; Derek's thinking had been: do now, agonize later, alone. _Ah, identified emotion #1, agony._

Derek had never let on that he had a fondness for Stiles, and if he were more truthful with himself, he would know it was quite a bit more than fondness. During the time he'd known Stiles, since Scott's transformation, Stiles had shown himself to be trustworthy, loyal, _strong_, and has shown that his aptitude with the supernatural was beyond anything Derek could imagine. Stiles was good through and through, even if he did have one hell of a mouth on him. Nevertheless, as Alpha, Derek could not show his weakness for liking the human; it could put him in even more danger than he ordinarily got into being friends with Scott. Having to do this, go through each day acting either indifferent or to some extent cruel to Stiles, depressed the fuck out of him. Now, illness posing a potential threat to the human, depression was definitely forefront in the running for emotions consuming him now. _Identified emotion #2, depression._

Derek had to stop this. He couldn't evaluate what he was feeling anymore right now, because if he did he might possibly break down, and he couldn't do that in the vicinity of Scott. _Or anyone, especially with werewolf abilities._

So, with Scott, lurking behind him, obviously looking for Derek to give him some reasoning as to what was occurring with Stiles, he steeled himself for the onslaught and leaped off the roof waiting for Scott to do the same.

* * *

**Scott POV:**

Scott could clearly tell Derek was not alright. As well as the Alpha could usually hide it, Scott had noticed Derek touching Stiles's arm while they were trying to comprehend the damage and cause for said damage in Stiles's body. And now Derek seemed as if he were smothering inside himself; he even smelled...like _despair_? Scott still wasn't very good at smelling emotions, but it wasn't too hard at this very moment to make out what was going on internally with Derek, seeing as Scott had been going through the same thing for the past week.

Scott had stayed back from him when leaving Stiles's room. Somehow sensing the Alpha's need to momentarily compartmentalize before being questioned about what was going on with Stiles.

Watching Derek hit the ground, he did the same, and finally allowed himself to ask his questions after Derek seemed to finally acknowledged him.

"So what do you think? Did you pinpoint anything?"

"I think there's a definite smell of decay there, but the cause, I'm not sure about. And that's not sitting well."

"So, you can confirm it's not cancer, right? 'Cause you know his mom died from it several years ago, and I've been worried that..." Scott let the sentence hang in the air.

"No, it's not cancer, but..."

"But?"

"I think we need to call a pack meeting, because something **is** killing him, and I can't smell what's causing the damage. This is making me think that an external agent is what we're looking for, something he's coming in contact what or..." Derek didn't finish his sentence, suddenly looking as though he had thought of something that angered him; his eyes shifting to a glowing red.

"What? What are you thinking?" Derek growled menacingly, though it wasn't directed to be threatening at Scott.

"Could someone want Stiles dead?" Scott blanked. Why would anyone want to hurt, let alone kill, Stiles? Sure, he could be hyper, talkative, and a sarcastic little shit at times, but that's not enough to want him dead. Derek seeing him falter in giving him a response, growled his impatience.

"Like I said, we need the pack together, without Stiles finding out just yet. We'll need to establish a way to keep Stiles accompanied by a pack member at all times. Watch for any person slipping him anything or see if he comes in contact with anything. We need to be taking more precautions anyway. Agreed?"

Scott gradually nodded his consent knowing that it was going to be difficult to keep Stiles out of the loop, especially if they were going to have to pull shifts to watch him. Scott knew stuff like that wouldn't go unnoticed by Stiles for long. They had established one thing for certain, Stiles needed protection.

"I'm telling Allison; she'll want to come to the meeting." Scott wasn't asking permission. Talking with her earlier, it seemed she loved Stiles too, and after the way Derek had acted today, Scott was under the impression Derek might also, granted it wasn't probably the brotherly and sisterly love that himself and Allison shared with Stiles.

Derek nodded his head, his eyes still glowing. "Pack is pack, werewolf and human, alike. Call them, Lydia, as well. I want everyone on this. We're not losing Stiles." Derek gave a final growl and ran off into the woods leaving Scott to his task.

Before departing, Scott glanced up at Stiles's window thinking that Stiles didn't deserve this, didn't deserve having to deal with Scott's problems this past year either. Right now, Scott wished for simpler times; or, at least, Stiles to be safe and happy. _Safe, ha. __Like Stiles would ever not get himself and me into trouble._ Still, they were going to fix this; all of them, together.

* * *

***Chapter Music Playlist: "Sirenna (Today We See Colour) (Ou Est Le Swimming Pool Remix)" - Losers, "Sea Shanty - The Dogs, "Old Friend" - Sea Wolf, "All Those I know" - Eric & Magill, "Warnings" - Sohn

Thought I'd mention an excellent fanfiction story I've been reading by DeCaStDe called, "I Run The Risk of Losing You, And That's Worse". Reading it has made me feel a little despondent in my hopes of writing something as good as it, but I'm trying to push through. Brain don't fail me now.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: Well, hopefully you guys are having fun trying to figure out what's wrong with Stiles, since it's not cancer; decided to go a different route than what most are doing with the "Stiles is sick" type storylines. Anyway, I hope you like Lydia POV cause I gave it my best shot; I didn't want you to feel cheated with all the explanation that had to be given to Lydia to move her forward along with the story, but I tried to incorporate it with her starting to see that Stiles is someone she ought to be paying attention to; otherwise, without her finding out about werewolves, she wouldn't be that involved with or care about Stiles. I don't own Teen Wolf, but I sure wish I owned Stiles. :)

* * *

Stiles/Derek/Lydia/Erica *Stiles is getting some lovin' in this story* (Romance/Humor/Angst)

Synopsis: When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him. After Season 2 Finale.

Warning: Language & eventual sexy fun times. Mature.

Multi-POV

**Lydia POV:**

Getting a call from Allison saying that she and Scott needed to meet with her in an hour, 1 a.m. no less, was making Lydia slip into her bitch mode. Did they really need to do this right now? What could be so damn important. _Allison on the phone 30 minutes earlier: "Got to get together tonight. It's of the highest priority." Uh, why?_ It seemed like everything was life or death with those two. They had been acting really strange lately; well, actually, quite a few of her friends had been acting weird recently. Even Jackson. Lydia was glad they were on a break since his freak flag had decided to fly high.

Grabbing the paper that had her handwritten directions on it, she snuck out of her house and made her way out of town, heading toward what looked to be an abandoned subway. Several cars were already parked out front, which surprised her. She didn't know this was going to be a group thing, granted, she also didn't know this meeting was going to be held in the middle of creepsville. Finding her way to a set of stairs that seemed to lead straight down into a pit of filth, she was suddenly incensed that no one had told her not to wear nice clothing and $500 heels. _Why in the hell am I doing this?_ _Oh, yeah, because I actually like Allison...and Scott too, I guess._ Sighing, she moved forward and descended until she could hear voices, upset voices, growling voices.

Finally she came upon a room that held three couches filled with people, some friends (_I guess Jackson counts_), and some she knew but didn't associate with, one of those being Derek Hale.

"Where the hell have you been, you're late?" He said to her obviously upset about something that had nothing to do with her, yet taking out his frustration on her being..._oh, let's see, 5 minutes late_.

"No."

"No?" He glared back.

"No, you don't get to speak to me like that. No." Everyone stiffened. Derek look pissed, but that didn't halt her in her resolve to not be treated like an inferior. Done conversing with him, she turned to Allison and Scott, who were sitting together holding hands in what looked to be a reassuring way, and cocked her eyebrow but saying in a calm, yet controlled manner, "What? What is this? Explain...now."

"Um, well, Lydia. We're... We've..." She couldn't seemed to get the words out. Allison looked intensely frustrated, but mostly...sad. Lydia stops and sees the whole room then, who had gone quiet when she entered, all look at her with forms of melancholy written on their faces. She hates it, sensing the dread that's going to follow with her next question, but asks her friend anyway.

"What's wrong. Tell me...please." Wow, she's never heard that particular word leave her mouth, but it seemed the time had finally sprung up to use it, because this room was filled with such sorrow that she felt out of place for not feeling it too or, at least, not being sensitive to the others feeling it.

Instead of Allison answering her, Scott looked her in the eyes and started off saying, "So, there's a lot you don't know about, so I'm going to start off with the basic foundation you'll need so you can be filled in on the rest of what's happening presently."

"Okay." She said slowly trying to focus, ignoring the way Jackson is ignoring her.

He let go of Allison's hands and stood to look at Lydia eye level. "So the thing is that well...we're a pack of werewolves." _Um._ Lydia looked around the room at the faces of the others to she if she could identify the emotions she was looking for, like humor or shock, but no one looked any different than before. Looking back at Scott, she realized that this wasn't a joke, and then it clicked for her the reason for all the strangeness that had been occuring; they had been hiding they were werewolves. With the realization of this, she didn't know what to say, so she walked around Scott to sit by Allison where Scott had previously been.

Yet this clarification, _werewolves are real_, didn't supply the reason behind everyone's pained expressions.

Scott seemed to see the resolve in her eyes that she believed what he had said and continued. "It's me, Eric, Isaac, Boyd, Jackson, and Derek, who is Alpha. Regardless, of who is or isn't supernatural, we're all pack." He motioned around the room with his hand. "We're including you now, too." _Fucking finally they included me after all the unexplained weirdness._ Although, really she didn't feel angry at their year long exclusion of her. Oddly enough, she didn't feel scared, threatened, or overwhelmed, either; she felt surprisingly whole.

"Why now?" It just occurred to her that there must be a reason to share this with her now, since they hadn't before, and she felt the reason wasn't going to be a good one.

"I know you're not on the best terms with Stiles or any terms really."

"Yeah, and...you're acting the opposite of spastic Stiles right now. Hurry up and spit it the hell out, McCall."

"He's sick." He then looks down at the floor. "Dying, in fact." He says this softly, and as he says this to her, Lydia can hear a smashing of glass to her left. Turning, she sees that Derek has thrown what looked to be an old vase, that's a vase no more, shards covering half the floor.

So, this must be why everyone looks so downtrodden. She'd never gone out of her way to show kindness to Stiles, mostly disregarding him, more like. But over the years, she had observed that he was unlike others; kind, when he wasn't using his humor in his own defense, hyperactive beyond belief, and quite smart, observant. Hell, he'd even noticed that she liked to played the part of dimwit for popularity status, but wasn't actually one. He'd tried so many times over the years to connect with her, yet she always left him in the dust, pretending to take no note of him.

Lydia had never known anyone personally who had died, so she felt the onus of failing to even be civil to someone who apparently is a person of significance to so many people. _Pack._ Now, feeling the guilt of her rejection of him weigh on her, she reluctantly asked, "How?"

"We don't know, that's one of the problems. Both Derek and I have tried smelling what's killing him, but there's no trace in his system, so we're going to have to devise a way to find out. We figure it's one of two possibilities, either he's doing harm to him self unknowingly, because Stiles isn't going to hurt himself on purpose, or someone's trying to kill him. Why I couldn't tell you, but there it is, laid out for you."

"Um, right." Derek huffed in exasperation at her non-verbose answers, but what the hell was she supposed to say or do when finding out such things as these, werewolves and Stiles's potential demise.

Derek decided to join the conversation by adding, "Time to wrap up the explanation portion of our day and move on to the planning phase."

Lydia is many things, but she had never been one to be shy, therefore why would she be shy in a room full of werewolves _and an ex-boyfriend_, so she stood up and turned to face those, human and werewolf alike, in the room.

"Right, so we need to start with the easiest thing first, we need to follow Stiles around, see if he touches or comes in contact with anything harmful, but also by being with him at all times, if someone is out to get him, he will be more secure than if he were alone." Seeing everyone turn to Derek for direction in how to act on Lydia taking control irked her, so she decided to slap her hands together while whistling loudly to get their attention back to her and more importantly, the strategizing they were supposed to be doing.

Scott appeared to wake at the sound saying, "We were thinking the same...about scheduling time between the pack to keep watch of him."

"Excellent." She felt good that for once, she was helping instead of hindering. "Let's do that first. We've got the whole night for the rest." Scott nods at her, and gives a slight smile. She returns it.

* * *

**Derek POV:**

After spending three hours in the overcrowded room, they had ultimately hashed out a temporary safeguard for Stiles. Even though dealing with Lydia had been agitating, she took the control he relinquished and made the pack focus in a way he hadn't known could happen. She was an Alpha in her own right, though she was only human. Still, he was glad he'd been right to include her in the pack, even if he didn't show it.

Thinking back earlier, he'd had quite a bit of trouble with his betas when they'd first arrived for the pack meeting.

*Flashback - 2 Hours Earlier*

"So, you have probably been sensing my anxiety since you came in, and we'll get to that momentarily. First thing's first. We're going to be telling Lydia Martin about us being werewolves tonight and letting her into the pack."

"The hell we are." Erica spit out, just as Boyd rumbled his infuriation; Isaac just looked aghast. Derek growled at them quickly putting them in their place.

"This isn't a questioning type situation; as Alpha, I'm telling you you're going to have another pack member after tonight." _That is if we can convince her werewolves are real, we aren't going to eat her, and asking if she'll work with us by being becoming pack._

After a beat, Erica calmed, and Isaac and Boyd returned their attention to Derek. He hoped that once they were told about Stiles, they wouldn't fight against having more support. This thought encouraged him to tell them the cause to which bringing more people in to the pack was necessary.

After doing so, the room felt foreboding, silent. He could only imagine the thoughts they had upon being told that their friend and pack mate was ill. Hell, he knew his feelings on the matter.

Derek heard a whimpering sound and looked up to see Isaac and Boyd holding Erica's hands; it was quite an unusual scene to witness; since Erica's turning she had encompassed herself with an imaginary shield, not showing any emotion that could be detrimental to her new hard ass persona. All betas were like that at first, but unlike Isaac and Boyd, she had yet to let her humanity show again. Derek took it as her nasty treatment by others for being epileptic for years as the reason for her hardness. Yet, here she was silently asking and getting support from her pack all because of Stiles. Apparently, Stiles wasn't just particularly important to Scott and himself.

After being contemplative for a moment, Erica said, "He's going to be alright. We will make him be alright." She gave the impression of directing this statement to him, and deep down, it made him feel the bit better for it.

*End Flashback*

For all the pack needed Stiles for, he now was in need of the pack. Alone wasn't going to be a word they would use any longer. Starting now, Stiles wouldn't be left alone even if he wanted to be.

Derek wanted Stiles to be surrounded by the pack for another reason: scent, more aptly, pack scent. If this was something supernatural in origin happening to Stiles, him being scented by his pack couldn't hurt to deter harmful forces anyway.

With this in mind, and everyone informed of their parts to play, Derek made a quick exit for his car to patrol and watch over Stiles for the rest of the night, or what little of it there was left, feeling slightly less troubled. _Slightly._

* * *

**POV _Unknown:_**

Watching in a tree as half the pack left, he felt his hatred rise. _Don't worry, they don't know it's me._ He had made sure to stay far enough away to not be smelt by the wolves. As long as he isn't found out too soon, his plan will surely succeed.

* * *

Oh, how I love to tease. Review please.

***Chapter Music Playlist: "Wait" - M83, "Youth" - Daughter, "Morning Life" - Feeder, "Set It On Fire" - Jeremy Enigk, "How To Disappear Completely" - Radiohead, "I'm On Fire" - Stateless


	4. Brief Story Hiatus

Well my lovelies, my computer is trying to drive me insane. Yesterday, it froze/crashed/restarted itself 38 times, leaving me so I can't write. I've only been able to complete 1/3 of Chapter 4. So, I'm buying a computer off ebay, which will take approximately 1-2 weeks to be shipped to me. Thus, I have to put this story on a brief hiatus. I'll be handwriting the next several chapters in the interim, so when I'm back with the new computer, I'll be able to post them quickly. I'm so sorry you'll have to wait, but I think it'll be worth it in the end, as I've just broken a major story plot in my head. In the meantime, I'll be posting in a few days the first chapters to **two **new stories that are companion pieces (one story Stiles POV and the other Derek POV) to each other that I had been writing in congruent with "As You Wish." They're not perfect by any means or very long, but I didn't want to leave you wonderful people with nothing. I'm sorry, once again. Will return as soon as I can.

-iofbeholder


	5. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: Sorry this has taken me so long to get out to you, but I'm back with my new laptop and all remnants of hurricane Sandy are gone. Stiles is going to continue to be a bit bitchy, because, I don't know about you, but when I don't feel well, I get quite bitchy. Anyway, I take such joy writing Stiles (I like his head space). Also, introducing Erica's POV in this chapter; hope it's not dreadful. Well, here we go. I don't own Teen Wolf, but I sure wish I owned Stiles; what a cutie. ;)

* * *

Stiles/Derek/Lydia/Erica *Stiles is getting some lovin' in this story* (Romance/Humor/Angst)

Synopsis: When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him. After Season 2 Finale.

Warning: Language & eventual sexy fun times. Mature.

Multi-POV

* * *

**Stiles POV:**

_I don't know what the hell is going on, but I'll be damn sure to find out. Wrath Stiles is out of the can when I get my hands on Derek._

All week, Stiles hadn't even been able to take a piss without someone breathing down his neck. _Sometimes __**physically**__ breathing down my neck._ It was getting damn annoying, and not one of my so-called friends and pack members would tell me why they were acting this way.

One of the only up sides had been that Lydia wasn't treating him like a non-human anymore, so that was a plus. Although, the reasoning why she was being congenial to him, and everyone else being so vigilant at being a constant at his side, was eluding him.

Had he secretly won the lottery, and somehow been knocked unconscious with excitement and mentally blocked winning, so everyone was trying to capitalize on that fact? Had he slipped into a parallel dimension where his friends, plus extended pack members, dared to grace him with their presence without the preamble of them wanting him to do research, or let's say, save their asses from impending doom of some sort; a world where he, Stiles Stilinski, was on one, Lydia Martin's radar. _Psshhh, Nah._ Could he be unknowingly possessed, and that's why everyone keeps giving him strange, dismayed looks?

Although, that last theory wouldn't account for all the random touching. It suggested that the pack had come down with the 'not knowing Stiles's personal boundary's' fetish that Scott and Derek had been inflicted with a day earlier that everyone else. Guess they never learned that if you're touching in a place you're supposed to ask to touch first, you probably shouldn't be touching there. _Or petting there. Shudder._

Even if those speculations were not the case, something extremely fishy **was** going on, and as head analyst for all things that go bump in the night for the group, he would uncover what was happening sooner or later.

This had all been occurring the whole week without a single word from Scott or Derek. They had been expertly avoiding him, thus evading answering Stiles's questions about the night of "Stiles Smell Extravaganza." With it being Thursday and pack meetings being on Friday evening, they weren't going to be able to hold out on him for very much longer.

* * *

**Derek POV:**

Jealousy. How the hell did this happen? Oh, yeah, he caused this to happen. It was his stupid idea to have everyone in the pack surround Stiles all week….with one little exception, himself (Scott, too). Derek has had to avoid the human the whole week, and it has been excruciating not being able to be around him, scent him, and get his own dose of pure Stiles aroma. Sure, he had lurked outside his bedroom, taking the night watch so that everyone could get some sleep; also, so he could fixate without anyone catching him doing so. Although, he figured the pack was beginning to catch on to his Stiles obsession.

He'll admit, sometimes he liberated himself from being relegated outside, behind the window of the human's room, to being in the human's bedroom watching Stiles in his fitful rest. He'd murmur pitiful moans, as if even in sleep he was in pain. And when hearing him do this, Derek became distressed and impatient.

They hadn't gotten much of anywhere on the front of how he was getting ill or who would do such a thing to, frankly, an innocent Stiles. 'Cause that's what he really was…innocent.

It killed Derek to think that he could be the cause for Stiles getting sick. _What if someone's doing this to him for helping the pack, or for merely hanging around werewolves?_ This is what would run through his head every night as he stood as protector. He really didn't want to be the cause for another person he cared for to be hurt or killed.

Scott had been the only other person to feel this way, and they were probably in the same way of thought because they were the only pack members that couldn't be near Stiles. Over the past couple of days, Scott had been around Derek, just for the sake of being around him. The lack of Stiles had had one positive outcome. In their mutual sadness and loneliness, it solidified their relationship as people who cared for Stiles. Both of them wanting to be there for Stiles, but in order to safeguard him couldn't, not until they had some kind of lead. Leaning on each other was the best they could do for now.

* * *

**Erica POV:**

"Are you going to be rubbing on me in the cafeteria, too, because I just sent Scott packing after pulling that shit in such a public place. I mean, it's not like I don't get picked on enough by the assholes in this place for being a smart ass." That's what he hisses at her as she walks up to Stiles at their usual table. Erica's seen the evolving frustration in Stiles as the pack's gotten even less subtle with their scenting when they had noticed him getting weaker and stumbling more often as the week passed. She wished they could just tell him their reasoning for smothering him, but she doesn't think that will help much with him randomly going into screaming fits with as much coddling as they do now.

Being with Stiles was no longer a chore, well, it is because Erica's having to keep watch of him, but now that he's sick, she realizes she'd been taking him for granted. He's just a mere human, yes; he's also the glue to their pack. He does the research necessary to keep the pack safe, he's repeatedly saved not only her life, but the life of their Alpha, and last but not least, he's always treated them, the pack, as family. Sure, the werewolves would argue and fight with him, but anytime the pack ever needed him, he was always there to help bail them out of trouble.

She had been so angry with him and resented him for so long, because he had never seen her in the same light she had seen him all these years.

Erica realized now, that he hadn't ignored her affections for all those years because of her epilepsy, but because he didn't know she had feelings for him; although, those feelings had turned from ones of only attraction to ones of attraction, affection, and familial affection, which made her feel very uncertain.

After the pack meeting, and the outing of Stiles's illness, Erica began to see her Alpha's tendency to be affected by the human; or to put it simply, show concern toward and indulge Stiles, when the Alpha rarely showed anything but anger, loathing (both to others and in himself), and resentment. She had begun to think he was broken inside after the death of his family, but Stiles clearly made him less insufferable.

"No, Stiles, I'm not going to smother you with werewolf cuddles, at least not in a place that's quite this public. I do have an image to uphold now that I'm a smokin' hot werewolf and cuddling would defeat that." She winked at him.

He seemed satisfied when she sat down without getting too close into his personal space. She looked down at his lunch plate. "Why did you order so much food?"

"This is how much I generally eat. I guess, I'm just not that hungry. Damn headaches must be making me loose my appetite too. Thinking about it, I can't really remember the last time I did eat. Oh well." If she wasn't worried enough, now they had a new symptom to add to his debilitating state. Derek was not going to be delighted when he hears of this current development.

"Want to go outside and get some air? Maybe you'll feel better." He looked at her incredulously. "Or we can sit here and sulk." She wished he didn't look so pained.

"You haven't even gotten to your food yet."

"It's alright. This would have been my fourth meal already today. Werewolf metabolism remember." It was a lie, but the lunches served at school were lackluster, so she didn't care either way.

"Fine, as long as you mind yourself and keep an arm's length away you can come." He smirked and she smirked right back at him.

"Here, I'll get your tray for you, so you can walk behind me and check out my fine ass in my leather mini skirt. Maybe that will cheer you up." She hoped that comment would make him not question why she didn't want him to burden himself with anything more physical than what he already dealt with, because he appeared like he was going to topple over with how weak and fatigued he looked. She picked up both their uneaten lunches, tossing them in the trash as they made their way out of the cafeteria.

They hadn't said anything to one another in the ten minutes they had been outside, which was strange being around Stiles and having him be silent. Loquacious was Stiles's middle name. It was definitely disturbing, and a testament to how much he had deteriorated within just the last few days.

As they continued walking at a greater distance away from the school and its occupants, Erica started feeling uneven. She looked down at her hand and it was shaking slightly. She ceased walking immediately; Stiles stopping too once he noticed she wasn't still at his side. As he turned to face her, presumably to say something sarcastic, she felt her legs collapse under her, her whole body starting to spasm. _No, this can't be happening. This can't happen anymore. The bite cured me. **I'm cured, damn it.**_

Stiles dropped down to hold her from hitting herself too hard on the rough ground, and then she heard him yelling at someone on his phone to come help.

She must have gone unconscious for a minute because Stiles was now off the phone, whispering words of comfort to her as he endeavored to keep her body as stationary as one could possibly get a person who was having an epileptic fit.

She looked up into his exquisite brown eyes, seeing them filled with panic. That was the final thing she remembered before blacking out completely.

* * *

This was a hard chapter to write. I know where I want the story to go, but this chapter was being difficult in letting me get there. The story should start picking up pace from here.

***Chapter Music Playlist: "I Can't Find You" – SolarSolar, "All I Need" - Radiohead, "The lightning Strike: What If This Storm Ends?" - Snow Patrol, "Swim Until You Can't See Land (Frightened Rabbit cover) - Benjamin Francis Leftwich, "My Body Is A Cage" - Arcade Fire


	6. Chapter 5

Author's Notes: Um, I didn't realize it has been so long between updates. Sorry. I also realized I made a mistake in the last chapter when I wrote that Scott was bothering Stiles in the cafeteria before Erica came to sit with him; it should have been Isaac, since Scott and Derek have been avoiding Stiles. Oops. I don't own Teen Wolf, but I sure wish I owned Stiles.

* * *

Stiles/Derek/Lydia/Erica *Stiles is getting some lovin' in this story* (Romance/Humor/Angst)

Synopsis: When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him. After Season 2 Finale.

Warning: Language & eventual sexy fun times. Mature.

Multi-POV

* * *

**Erica POV:**

She gradually started to wake to the noises of impassioned shouting outside the room she was in.

"He's not wanting to leave; he is adamant that until he gets answers, he's not 'moving his lily white ass.' I think it's time we give him what he wants." The person Scott asked this to huffed loudly.

"Oh, I know what he wants, but that doesn't mean he's going to get it. Tell him thanks for staying with her, but he needs to go home until we figure this out. Until I can figure out a way to tell him what's going. You go with him Scott; he still needs protecting, but keep your trap shut if you can. Once we have grilled her on what happened today, maybe we will have some of our answers as to what's been happening to Stiles." She heard a grievous sigh. "Then we'll tell him the truth, and hopefully have some way of fixing all this." _Ah, how I love a good old Scott and Derek show of dominance. Some things never change._

With their conversation over, Derek makes an appearance in the room…bringing with him quite a few people.

"You ready to grill me then?" Erica meant for that to come out as teasing and sexy; instead it came out scratchy on account of her voice being hoarse. _How long have I been out?_

She had only been able to hear the tail end of their conversation, so when nearly the whole pack came into the room, she was astonished. She knew Derek and Scott were at least here, but she didn't think most the pack would congregate on her behalf. It was an intensely positive feeling to know that she had people who cared, though she tried her best to hide it.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Boyd asked, as he knelt down beside her, taking her left hand in his, slowly rubbing his thumb in circles over her knuckles. Isaac gently placed his hand on her ankle comfortingly.

"Better now." Erica looked to her Alpha, and asked, "Is Stiles alright? He grabbed me as I fell; I didn't hurt him did I?"

"No, he is fine. He's stronger than he appears sometimes." She smiled at that comment. Though, a sarcastic twat at times, Stiles, even in his weakened condition, was a potent force. Those who underestimated him tended to suffer the consequences.

"So, you remember what happened?" Isaac asked, and she nodded her head whilst never looking away from Derek.

"How could I—" Erica had to stop, take a breath, and try again. "I thought the bite cured my epilepsy."

"It did. It must be what you came in contact with that triggered the episode. Walk us through what you were doing prior."

"Well, I had convinced Stiles to go for a walk with me, because, frankly, while we were at lunch he looked so pale and lethargic that I was beginning to worry. Or worry more. We had gotten fairly far away from the school. When I was trying to figure out how to coax him into talking with me, which was fucking scary enough, I noticed my hands were shaking, and that's when I fell to the ground into the epileptic episode."

"You didn't touch anything outside or see anyone around?" Boyd squeezed the hand of hers he was holding when he asked.

"No, and I would have smelled if someone was there. It was just the two of us."

Derek then stepped forward to question.

"Okay then. We've established it wasn't something outside. What about before? You said you were at lunch with Stiles. Do you think someone could have slipped you something, maybe something that was meant for Stiles? That maybe what merely induced you to have an epileptic fit, has been causing the damage to Stiles."

_Slipped me something? No. I hadn't eaten or drunk anything, either his or mine, so that couldn't be it. Although, I did…_

"His tray. I grabbed it for him as we left. That was the only thing I touched, and would be the only thing that no one else but Stiles would handle. That's how it's being done. It's someone that has access to the school."

The energy in the room seemed to electrify at this revelation. They finally had a lead, and someone was going to pay.

* * *

**Scott POV:**

After pretty much forcing an erratic, flailing Stiles to leave the pack den, he'd been unsettlingly quiet. Especially since Scott had been secluding himself from Stiles for the week, and he knew his best friend would have been teeming with questions once he had his chance to ask them, yet here he sat, speechless with his body turned away from Scott, looking out the window. Stiles was…well, Stiles had never been this subdued in all the time since they met.

The ping from his phone informing him of a new text engulfed the silence in the car. Scott seized it out of his pocket, pulling it near the wheel to keep driving while reading it.

"You shouldn't do that, asshat. If you crash, some of us won't be able to reform our mangled bodies."

"Oh, it finally speaks."

Stiles snapped his head around to scoff and look incredulous at his best friend. "Yeah, 'cause _I'm_ the one that's been hiding from his best friend all week, so _I_ don't have to tell him what the hell is going on."

After seeing the text from Derek about what Erica had exposed, Scott was livid. As soon as he was off 'Watch Stiles Detail', he was going to find the bastard who was hurting his friend. Freddy Krueger would look tame compared to what Scott had in mind to do with his claws.

"True, and maybe we can remedy that soon, just…not yet."

"Whatever. Fuck all this bullshit. I'm just tired." He said, leaning his head against the glass looking back outside.

He did look tired. Scott wondered if his outburst back at the den had used up all of Stiles's limited energy, a concept that until recently was unfathomable when referring to Stiles.

Scott pulled in to the driveway to Stiles's house, and before he could even fully park the jeep, Stiles had the door open, and while trying to make it to the front door slipped and fell to the ground.

When Scott attempted to help his friend, he encountered one hell of a resistance.

"I'm not an invalid, Scott. I'm just a little more clumsy than usual, because of the headaches."

"Okay, okay. Want me to get you some more aspirin when we get inside?"

As Stiles picked himself up off the ground he replied, "Damn aspirin doesn't work anymore. Just have to deal."

They made their way inside and up the stairs. Before they were about to enter Stiles's room, Scott had a thought come into his head that it was strange that the bedroom door was closed, as Stiles was always so frazzled that he almost always left his door ajar.

It's then that Stiles touches the door knob and straightaway falls to the floor hyperventilating. Scott falls with him to his knees before Stiles hits his head on the hard wood floors.

Cradling Stiles's head in his arms, he sees Stiles's eyes blown wide, his skin covering itself in a sheen of sweat, and ultimately his body starts to convulse so hard Scott can barely keep hold. He most definitely will leave bruises trying to.

Scott looks up and sees a gooey substance on the handle and a spike of fear runs up his spine and tears cascade down his face as he hears Stiles start to choke on his own blood.

Whilst trying to still hold onto Stiles, Scott manages to retrieve his phone hitting redial, knowing that Derek was his last call.

* * *

**Derek POV:**

Even spending several hours scouring through trash hadn't discouraged Derek's determination, because it had paid off. He'd finally been able to scent out Stiles's awful smelling lunch, being careful not to touch the styrofoam tray bare-handed. While the lunch itself smelled of feet, the tray had only the minute traces of where Stiles and Erica had handled it, nothing else. Yet, focusing in with his werewolf sight, Derek was able to see the traces of residue left behind from what he guessed was the toxin used.

Derek hadn't said anything, but when he had heard Erica's recount of how she had come to have an epileptic episode, he knew that whatever poison that was meant for Stiles wasn't just regular, but of supernatural origins. Otherwise, unlike when she'd come in contact with the Kanima's venom, she would not have had any ill effects.

This was a torturous discovery.

This meant that whoever had the vendetta against Stiles was possibly of the non-human persuasion or, at least, had knowledge of the supernatural.

His phone began to ring, obnoxiously.

"Hold on, hold on." He said to the inanimate object. He climbed out of the garbage before hitting the answer call button.

Once he did, he sincerely wished he hadn't, as he could heard gurgling and crying, and knew his worst fear was coming to light…he knew Stiles was dying.

* * *

**_Unknown POV:_**

(10 minutes before Scott and Stiles return to Stiles's house)

_That werewolf bitch just had to touch Stiles's tray. They were surely going to figure it out now, although, they are too dumb a race of creatures to understand the whole truth yet._

_I had sequentially been uping the quantity to Stiles during the past week, and it seemed to be working. He was almost there, almost ready. Maybe one or two more dosages, but that bitch had to fuck it up._

_I have to make my final move quickly._

_I make my way through his house, touching his things, lingering on the softness of his pillow under my fingertips. 'Don't worry, Stiles,' I thought to myself, 'It'll be SO much better soon.'_

_Hearing Stiles's jeep approach the house, I laid out my last and most concentrated dose, hoping it will do the trick and left silently to watch from the woods in the backyard._

* * *

***Chapter Music Playlist: "The Dragster-Wave" - Ghinzu, "The Wizard" - Bat For Lashes, "Blue Light (Engineers Anti-Gravity Mix)" - Bloc Party, "Breathe" - The Cinematic Orchestra


End file.
